Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“Why does that cut you so deep, Eros? Hmm? It’s been thousands of years. Get over it.”
I stand, bat wings flaring up at my sides, stretching out until they’re pressing against the walls, and loom over her. Suddenly bigger than I was. My head bowing at the neck because it’s hitting the ceiling. “Get. Out.”
She shrugs, gets to her feet, straightens her antlers, and walks to the door, leaving her wooden shoe-blocks behind.
She stops at the door and turns to face me.
I’m back to my normal size, just a smidge over six feet, but my display has concerned her. She is cautious as she unties the bow that secures the antlers under her chin, and then she cocks her head to the side and they crash to the floor. All twenty-two semi-golden points.
“What the hell is that all about?” I ask.
Callistina shakes out her flaxen hair, tilts up her chin, and looks me in the eyes. “I’m tired, Eros. I’m tired of being crazy, I’m tired of being alone, and I’m tired of being human. So I am going to choose to be sane now, and to find my people, and to embrace what I have become.”
“I don’t even know what that means, Callistina.”
She shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.” Then she turns and walks out.
I stand there in my apartment for almost a minute, running all these new events through my head.
Then I nod, take a deep breath, and walk down the stairs with my massive black wings drooping behind me.
As soon as I enter the bar I scan the room for Callistina, but she’s gone. Batty-Darrel is here though. And he says, “She found them on the hill,” pointing to the two young men who have been chained to my throne. They are staring at me, mouths agape and eyes wide. Like a scream is stuck in their throats.
I walk over to them. Stalking, really. My wings are outstretched, no longer confined to the small space upstairs, so they reach out for almost three meters in both directions, catching on chairs and tables, so that I drag these things behind me as I make my way towards the trespassers.
Both have been bound at the wrists with chains. But their legs are free, so they try to scoot away as I approach, pressing up against the massive arms of my chair, which is in the shape of a lion’s head.
“What are you doing here.” These words leave my mouth with absolute authority, so they do not carry the tone of a question.
One of them stutters, “We… we… we were looking for the monster town. We’re sorry, we don’t really know how we got here. One moment we were on the hillside, and the next we saw that…” He looks at the front door which, presumably, was the last location he saw Callistina. “That crazy lady with the antlers was coming up the hill!”
“Please, don’t kill us,” the other one says. “Please! Please, please, please,” he begs.
The sigh that leaves my mouth this time is just… exhaustion. I scrub my hands down my face, pull out a chair from the nearest table, and sink down into it, leaning back, stretching out my legs, and letting my wings droop to the floor. I am not in the mood for humans. “Shall I eat ya?”
“Wh-wh-what?” the first one manages.
“Did he just say he wanted to eat us?” the other one squeaks.
Why me? Why. Me? What did I do that was so bad? What?
Was it the arrow I shot at Apollo? No. He wanted that relationship. I remember that. He paid me. Didn’t he?
I can’t remember. I shot somebody with a love arrow. Whoever this person was, they bonded with… oh, can’t remember that, either. But I do know I shot the partner with the hate arrow.
I smile, chuckling to myself as I think back on how fun it was. To utterly destroy people with the power of unrequited love. I was going to rule the realm.
“Why is he smiling? Is he really gonna eat us?”
“Shut up, Monty! Just shut up!”
I blow out yet another breath of exhaustion and turn to the one called Monty. He is… puny. And dirty. And he needs a haircut. His wavy, dark hair falls past his shoulders. Which I like on myself. Mine is slightly shorter than that and, of course, it is not dark, but this man—is he a man? Or a boy? It’s so hard to tell. At any rate, this male is untidy. He’s got leaves and twigs in his hair and his shirt is ripped right down the front.
His traveling partner is almost a perfect copy. Different face, of course. But also puny, and dirty, and undesirable.
“Tell me, Monty, are you magical?”
“W-what?” He blinks in my direction, then snaps out of it and glances at his friend. They share a look. This look tells me they are about to lie.